


To Forever Be Fallen

by Ysaerie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animal!Titans, Badass Levi, Commander Levi, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Noble Eren, Omega Eren Yeager, Omegaverse, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Royalty, Soulmates, War, badass Eren, dark!omega
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysaerie/pseuds/Ysaerie
Summary: There is nothing Imperator Eren Jaeger won't do to get what he wants. Not blackmail, not murder -- not even the seduction of a certain enemy commander. If only plans weren't so set on crumbling.Features a...Badass | Femme Fatale | Omega | Eren





	1. A Knife's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Levi/Eren Omegaverse AU. Canon elements have been re-purposed. Assume nothing, everything will be explained. 
> 
> So, along with being my first SnK/AoT fic, this is also my first foray in the omegaverse. Since I’m a huge newbie, any advice/feedback would be well appreciated. A little warning: I haven’t read the manga (only seen the anime), but I have informed myself on some of the lore by parsing the wiki. There will be mild spoilers in this fic, but likely nothing you haven’t seen before if you’re a fellow Ereri junkie. 
> 
> My desire to write this stems from having read a-many omegaverse stories that characterized everyone of the omega dynamic as neotenous shrinking violets. These fics are perfectly fine, and hell, I like most of them. But it drove me to want to write a dark!omega (is that even a term?) Eren, where he’s kind of an independent femme fatale fireball. Someone who has real power in a world where he’s not supposed to have any. 
> 
> Anyway, that’s my vision. I’ll do my best to make good on it :)
> 
>  
> 
> **Beware the giant shitty map in the middle of the fic. Though, pretend there's sea where the picture cuts off at the bottom. Eldia is a large island.**
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, I'd be appreciative if you guys gave me some feedback, even if it's negative. I know I have a lot to learn. So any grammar mistakes, awkward sentences, confusing points, boring parts, etc point them out and I'll for sure try to fix them (I need a beta, if anyone's interested). If you have any general questions/comments, I'm happy to answer those as well. Thanks for reading! xoxo

A sweet breeze full with birdsong mussed Eren’s hair as he leaned over the balustrade, forearms pressing to cold stone. At this height, all of Shiganshina laid bare before him. Brightly outfitted children chased each other around the Square, tripping into barking merchants and snatching charred scraps from barbecue vendors. Exactly on time, clocks struck nine and the Curfew Bell’s weighty toll stretched across the district. Bathhouse doors burst open in a cloud of hot steam and a procession of laughing fat men ambled out with small towels around their hips. Holding up his lyre, a nearby musician began a funeral march. The patrons shouted and threw their towels at the smirking man, who used his instrument to shield himself from both their wet towels and their nakedness.

In the basin of the land, thousands of homes patterned the field in perfect chaotic order, cobblestone streets winding around them like gray snakes. 

Eren’s faint grin vanished when he spotted two sentry, their gold-and-white uniforms crumpled and dirt-stained, sitting against the bars of the castle’s iron gates while lazily cooling themselves with shoddily crafted leaf-fans.

“Oi! Wake up!” Eren yelled. 

They obliviously carried on, proving that neither were omegas. An omega would’ve heard him — and likely been capable of some sort of shame afterwards. 

Luckily, these bums were merely ornamental. A deterrent for common criminals. Bolder trespassers found themselves faced with the Whiteguard, a protective squad made from a cut of the district’s finest fighters. 

Or if they were truly unfortunate, with the Blackguard.

“Do you not tire of the view?” a familiar voice asked from behind. Mikasa, his alpha twin sister. Her scent was strong today: the crisp, fresh sting of winter mixed with heady smoke. 

“How could I?” Eren murmured. 

She lounged back against the railing, flowing black hair nearly whipping into his face as she tipped her head to the purpling sky. Mikasa wasn’t wearing the traditional garment of her status nor her diadem, just a simple silk slip. A scandalous sight to be sure.

“The Queen of Heaven is bright tonight,” she said. Strange, he hadn’t noticed. Eren frowned. A sign of misfortune, it was, when the Queen twinkled alone — not that he believed any of that shim-sham.

He pointed at a trio of bright sky-pricks behind her. “No, Cerberus is out, see? He’ll keep her in line.” 

Instead of looking, Mikasa shot him an unamused glare. “Cerberus follows the Queen’s command.”

When words ran dry between them, a thorny silence took their place and tonight was no exception. Perhaps the void was so awkward because he and Mikasa both knew the exact conversation needed to fill it but refused to oblige. She kept seeking him out with the intention of having that talk, but she wouldn't start it. Well, he wasn't going to either. Not now. But each second in the abyss felt like lemon on raw skin.

“It’s difficult to imagine that the rest of the country’s in turmoil,” Eren continued, picking at his nails. “Shiganshina’s never seen war. We wouldn’t survive it.” 

The district owed its long age of peace to the range of titan-infested mountains surrounding the land. But if Reiss’s army was headstrong enough to breach them...

Mikasa clicked her tongue, a dark shadow crossing her features. “You underestimate us, Eren. Still… if anything were to happen, King Fritz would send his soldiers to defend us. It’s his duty to protect his kingdom.” 

Ten years ago, a sixty-year-old Siegmund Fritz ascended the throne after his father had finally passed. But unlike the last king, Siegmund was rumored to be feather-minded and of weak constitution. Rod Reiss, the Imperator of the northwest district Orvud, used the opportunity to wrest power for himself.

And he was succeeding. Of the nine districts that made up the nation of Eldia, Reiss had subjugated four of them, and the fifth, Trost, was imminent. Vast and located in the center of the country, Trost bordered eight districts including Shiganshina. A huge advantage, but not the only one. They also grew sixty percent of the country’s crops and raised seventy percent of its livestock. 

  
  


[](http://imgur.com/BZjaFMt)

  
  


Reiss had pulled a risky opening maneuver by splitting his army, sending one half to invade the northern district of Krolva and the other to attack the southern district of Ehrmich. Then, he used both armies to simultaneously invade Trost from either end. The district had been ill-prepared. It was assumed the take-over of Krolva and Ehrmich would take several years, if it succeeded at all -- but Reiss managed it in six months. And only three years later Trost too was singing its swan song.

King Fritz was losing.

“Hopefully,” Eren said darkly. 

His hand was taken in Mikasa’s, her skin cool and dry despite the soupy heat. “I can’t make promises for others. But I will protect you. I can promise you that.” 

He gave a quiet huff of amusement. “I’m the last person I’m worrying about.” 

“Which is why I have to do it for you,” Mikasa said as she re-arranged the straps of her slip. 

Eren exhaled and focused back on Shiganshina. His heart stilled in his chest as he caught sight of a large, dark shadow at the edge of the Western Forest. It moved like silk. 

“Mikasa,” he whispered, as if shouting would warn the skulking monster. “Mikasa, look! Look!” 

She followed his gaze. “What is it?”

“A titan!” _An Abnormal._

Black eyes widened. Color drained from the fingers clenched around the railing.

After a terse moment: “I don’t see anything.”

“I know what I saw.” Eren ran back into the castle, pausing only once to properly gather his cloak after nearly tripping over the excessive gossamer fabric. Impractical piece of shit. Mind spinning, he navigated the castle’s labyrinthine halls with Mikasa only steps behind.

He reached the first floor. Where were the guards?

Mikasa placed a hand on his shoulder. Deep calm washed over him.

Eren brushed her hand off. 

She knew he didn’t like it when people imposed their pheromones on others, even with kind intentions. His feelings, his instincts, they were _important_. They were there for a purpose. If he used his sister as a crutch, eventually he’d become one of those co-dependent omegas that couldn’t function without an alpha at their back.

“My Lord, My Lady, what’s the rush?” Hannes, the head of their Whiteguard, asked. He had the look of a scraggly lion but Eren counted his blessings that the man didn’t reek of whiskey. 

“Eren says he saw a titan,” Mikasa answered for him.

“By the Western Forest,” Eren supplemented. 

Hannes didn’t waste another moment, running, yelling as he went. Dozens dressed in white uniform spilled from the halls like a flock of doves, people Eren hadn’t smelled, seen, or heard, and they all started sprinting, adjusting their weapons as they did. 

Eren was glad the man didn’t waste time asking questions. There was no point. National law demanded that citizens obey their district’s Imperator and immediate family. Hannes had to comply, even if he thought Eren was playing a cruel joke.

“Come,” Mikasa said, leading him back to the balcony which they’d just fled from. This time, the trip felt longer, more arduous. But he wanted to see. 

By the time they reached the stone lip, the entire district was in uproar. War horns blared a curling aria and totems carved with the faces of heroes and gods blazed high enough to reach the sky. Children waited, one foot on their porch and one in the grass, watching wide-eyed as the area around them flooded with righteous villagers joining the Whiteguard’s charge.

The hair on the back of Eren neck stood up on end.

A thundering howl split the air. 

Eren couldn’t see, but he _smelled_ it. Blood — human blood. Animal blood. Heard breaking, snapping, the wet squelch of flesh tearing off bone, but from what he did not know.

“I should be out there.” Mikasa clenched her fists. 

“They’ll be fine,” Eren said. “Titans are nothing new.” 

There was a quick, thin sound drowned out by the chaos. Less a noise than a feeling but it… came from _behind_ them.

Eren ripped Mikasa aside — 

— a knife embedded into her arm. Heart-aimed. Cool skin warmed under Eren’s grip, blood thrumming, singing, and with a low growl she switched their positions, shoving Eren behind her just as he caught a good glimpse of their attacker. 

He recognized him as a kitchen boy. A young man with sandy-brown hair and a sharp nose. No real scent wafted from him. Must’ve been taking the same suppressants as their Whiteguard.

Still, the danger prompted him to try harder. Eren’s nostrils flared. Beta. 

Adopting a more casual stance, the man shrugged, an odd light entering his eyes. “Imperatrix.” He mockingly addressed Mikasa with a bow. There was the slightest lilt to his accent, but Eren couldn’t place it. “I’ve seen enough of your homework to know you kids are fairly smart, so I won’t explain the obvious. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

Silver flashed and Mikasa pulled the dagger from her arm to parry the new blade. Metallic ringing echoed in Eren’s ears.

“Don’t kill him, we need — “ 

Eren’s plea died on his lips as Mikasa flung the knife straight through the side of kitchen boy’s neck. Blood sprayed wildly, each beat of the man’s heart spurting more red down his servant’s tunic and onto the ground. 

“... answers,” he finished.

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

Eren shook his head. “We need to find a doctor. Throwing knives are always poisoned.” 

“Do you think mama’s alright?” she asked as he picked her up bridal style. “ — It’s just my arm — _Eren!”_

“I’m sure she’s fine,” he said, meaning each word. Earlier, Eren had said he thought himself the last person he was worried about. A lie. That position belonged to Carla Jaeger. Anyone that bothered to worry for her had less sense than the useless sentinel sleeping outside. “Please focus on not dying.” 

“It is unlikely I’ll bleed to death from an arm wound. But thank you.” She nuzzled into the front of his robes, the stench of winter rising around them. 

Mikasa’s pheromones were affecting him again. She likely wasn’t doing it on purpose, but as he stepped in the rivulets of dark blood he couldn’t help but yearn to roll around and loll like a cat in the sun. Fear dried out of him.

He offered her a roguish grin. “But not impossible.”

**xXx**

Paper crunched as Farlan Church stuffed the directions into his pocket, the dark, windy halls, carrying the noise into the fortress's depths. A shiver crawled down his spine that had nothing to do with the bitter Krolva cold. He couldn't help but feel as if he were being watched by some malignant supernatural force. Was it really so odd for a military man to be terrified of ghosts? Logically he knew they didn't exist. But _if they did_ Imperator Kirstein's castle would be teeming with them. Dead servants. Dead Kirsteins. Bodies left to freeze in snow because the ground was solid stiff. 

He pushed the irrational fear out of his head and ran a hand through his hair, back to the subject matter at hand: was this room the right room? Levi's hastily drawn instructions had gotten Farlan lost multiple times on the way here. The metal bolts on the door seemed to stare into his soul. Should he knock? No, just go in. Farlan sucked in a breath and pushed open the slab of heavy wood.

Sitting at the head of a table was Rod Reiss in the flesh, his attention focused on an intricate map spilling across the surface before him. Atop his head laid a heavy gold crown, more ornate and impressive than King Fritz’s. Or so Farlan had been told. He’d never seen Fritz’s crown. 

Entering the room, he let himself breathe in relief -- a mistake. Reiss's lemongrass scent slammed into him, so pungent and one-note that there was no doubt the aristocrat had taken a scent enhancer. A classic power move, one Farlan found himself unappreciative of. Nearly everyone here was an alpha save for him and two others, and not a single omega — but that didn’t surprise him. Omegas and war were like water and oil.

All but one seat was filled. One terribly close to Reiss. 

The man did a double-take at the sound of Farlan’s approaching footsteps.

“And who are you, son?” he asked, tone almost jovial. “I thought Levi would be joining us tonight.” 

Farlan saluted. “My name is Farlan Church. There was an emergency — Commander Ackerman left last-minute to tame an insurgency in the Trost District, sir. He sent me in his place. I hope that’s alright.” 

Reiss gave a throaty laugh, one that took Farlan back to a grandfather he'd never known. It was almost too easy to forget Reiss was a power-hungry crocodile. 

While neither the man nor his methods were ideal, Eldia had been dying in the hands of the Fritz dynasty for generations. Poverty was the highest it’s ever been; crime, through the roof. Having grown up in the underground of Mitras, he had witnessed all of this first-hand. The current system needed to be overhauled. 

There was irony in handing the throne from one greedy aristocrat to another, but the country needed to be shaken and re-rolled. Reiss promised a new constitution with laws decided by a citizen majority vote, more money devoted to the sick and poor, and the abolishment of the Imperator class. 

“Perfectly alright, dear boy,” Reiss said, gesturing to the open seat. “I fear poor Levi might have slept through this meeting anyway.”

Uneasy smiles went around, the undercurrent of tension in the room sparking into something nearly tangible.

Everyone here had a reason for joining Reiss. Fame and fortune; concern for Eldia’s fate; to continue their forefathers legacy as military men. However, Levi was the only high-ranking officer that did so simply because he enjoyed the challenge. The bloodshed. Sure, a fair number of their foot soldiers had their wires crossed, but none of the _Commanders_ — none except Levi. Reiss couldn’t let a man that did more damage in one battle than a hundred soldiers combined go unrecognized. Couldn’t let him disappear. 

And as Levi ascended the rankings, he brought Farlan and Isabel with him by their scruffs

Taking his seat, Farlan crossed his legs and knit his fingers together on the table. 

“Now that everyone’s present, let's begin,” old General Dot Pixis said, standing up. Light glinted off his stunningly bald head. “Despite the skirmish Levi is dealing with, we consider Trost under our control. We are gathered here tonight to discuss the next course of action.” 

A woman — Anka Rheinberger, he thought — played with the fluffy end of her right pigtail. One of the betas. “Going numerically, the sixth district is Shiganshina.” 

“The tiny one. This will be easy,” an unknown officer commented. 

Reiss scoffed. “Have you ever been to Shiganshina?” 

By the looks on some faces the answer was no trick question, but Farlan wasn’t in on it. The mountainous geography was unfavorable but not impossible to deal with, and because of the isolated nature of the district they wouldn’t get the news of their arrival in time to flee. What was he missing?

It was times like this when he was cruelly reminded he’d never had a proper education.

“Titans!” General Pixis announced, smacking a baton he'd pulled out of thin air onto the table loudly. Several people jerked. “Thousands of titans. In Ehrmich, one or two curious fellows managed to find their way around the Maria Wall a year, wreaking absolute havoc before they're put down. But where do you think they all live? The Shiganshinan Mountain Range!” 

Ah. Titans. He'd had a lapse in memory -- the monsters tended to live in the South, far from his home. Only once had there been a titan attack on Mitras in his lifetime, but it'd been bad enough that he was ashamed for having forgotten.

“They don’t attack Shiganshina?” Farlan was startled to realize this question came from Reiner. He bit back a pleased smile at seeing a familiar face.

Reiss cut off Pixis, who had been about to answer.

“For those who let themselves wallow in ignorance, allow me spread some enlightenment,” he said, taking his eyes off the map to coolly survey the inhabitants of the room. “Titans do not attack all humans. When presented with an alpha, they go into a frantic bloodlust. With a beta, they get hungry. Gruesome deaths. However, near the fairest dynamic? Worst they do is ignore them, but there are several accounts of titans protecting omegas from danger.” 

Reiss took a deep breath and continued. “Shiganshina enjoys a high concentration of omegas. Nearly twenty percent — “ 

Farlan’s eyes bulged. His own district of Mitras proudly boasted an omega rate of five percent. And in the underground, there’d been _zero_. Farlan hadn’t even laid eyes on one until hairs had sprouted on his chest. 

“ — which is enough to keep the titans at bay. However, our army which has an omega participation rate of less than one percent would not be gifted the same courtesy.” 

“Sir,” a brave soul started, “if one omega for five others is enough to stay the titans, then for our army of fifty-thousand we would need ten thousand omegas.”

Anka Rheinberger rolled her eyes. “We won’t need our whole army. The difficult part is getting through the mountains, but then Shiganshina is left vulnerable like a brood of sleeping lambs. We could take the district with a small division of two-hundred. That’s only forty omegas. Right?”

“It is fortunate that the first Fritz King forbade his Imperators from keeping standing armies,” Reiss said. “A scared bitch. This time, I will go as well. I have a few words for Imperatrix Carla Jaeger.” 

“When do we begin, sir,” Farlan asked, when it was clear no one else was going to. He didn’t want to appear totally useless.

“Let this Trost business finish. We’ll rest, and then start our campaign for Shiganshina come the first of July.” 

_After Trost, so they could bring Levi._

Farlan nodded. 

Reiss's chair scraped back as he stood up. "Let's adjourn. Nothing good ever happens after midnight." He chuckled.

Five minutes later, the day of June 16th began.


	2. Honey and Hemlock

Few families lived outside the basin, mainly Shiganshina’s old aristocracy. Their grand manors were embedded in the tiered land leading up to the castle — the higher up, the nobler. Two mansions were nestled right below his, House Arlert and House Kleibel. Eren’s best friend Armin descended from one, and his own mother from the other. 

“My Lord Imperator,” the Arlert guard said, bowing as Eren was ushered through their gates. Eren found it amusing that these sentinel were better behaved than the ones snoozing around his home.

He nodded in acknowledgment. “Sam. How goes it?”

Eren had made it a point since he was young to memorize the names and faces of as many Shiganshinan citizens as possible. Not only did it make their day when he remembered them, but he’d heard of legendary generals employing the same tactic to inspire loyalty in their subordinates. But then Mikasa had caught on and started doing the same just to spite him. 

“Perfectly well, My Lord. The young master awaits you inside.” 

In contrast to the castle’s welcoming terrace of rosebushes, pink willows, and ponds of elegant whitefish, the Arlerts’ front lawn was completely bare. He watched for a moment as Armin’s crotchety grandfather played sport on the grass, sending servants running every few rounds to fetch any errant balls he struck with his stick.

Crossing the manor’s threshold, Eren searched for any signs of his friend. 

“In the study room,” Sam said. “Shall I escort you?”

Eren waved him off. “I’ve got it, thanks.” His feet carried him to a room which was unlike the rest — instead of a door, a swath of bright veils curtained the entrance. He swiped them aside and stepped in. 

“Eren!” Armin yipped, twisting in his criss-crossed position on the floor to beam at him. Returning the smile, Eren saddled up next to him and gave the small blond boy a quick hug. 

There was a pause. 

“I can’t believe last night,” Armin muttered. “The titan… and then someone tried to assassinate Mikasa? You guys find out anything about the guy?”

Eren rolled his head around his neck, loosening the tense muscles. He’d spent the whole night in the library researching how to evade assassination attempts. It haunted him — if he’d been one beat too late, Mikasa would’ve been dead. Alpha or not. 

“His name was Walter. The Mason family adopted him when he was twelve, if you know them. They spent a few years out-of-district working for King Fritz. But after the bloody mess in Krovla, they came back home with a brood of half-starved street urchins. He’d been one of them.”

Armin nodded, sighing as he did. “Someone planted a mole.” 

“Not just that. He’s young — about our age. Meaning elsewhere in our country, someone is plucking up children and training them to become assassins for Reiss.” Eren narrowed his eyes. “Or, even worse, it’s happening in Shiganshina.” 

“If it was the latter, your Blackguard would’ve known about it,” Armin said. “He must be a plant.” 

Eren kept from voicing his doubts. In the district, citizens spoke of the infamous Blackguard like they were some legendary secret force. Eren, however, was closer to the issue — he knew his mother, as reigning Imperatrix and thus the head of the Blackguard, was fallible. No one was perfect. The Blackguard wasn’t superhuman. 

“If you say so.” 

With Armin, the resulting quiet felt natural. Easy. 

“I’ve never seen my grandfather upset as he was this morning. When he heard Mikasa was attacked,” Armin said. “He’s already been drawing up contracts to betroth my children to yours.”

An alpha-omega twin pair was extremely rare. Blessed, many called it. Divine, they’d said at the temple. Some more outspoken nutcases even suggested that he and Mikasa were mates, given a womb to share because they couldn’t stand to be apart. Armin’s grandfather was one of those nutcases. 

Or maybe nutcase was too strong a word as Eren’s own mother was the strongest proponent of the idea.

“We’re not marrying, Armin.” 

“It may not be your choice,” he replied. 

Another figure bowed past the silks — a tall, lithe woman with a honey-blond undercut. She put a hand on her hip and smirked at them. 

“Good morning my precious students.”

“Nanaba!” Eren and Armin said together. 

She clapped her hands together. “We have five hours today. Ample time to practice scent training.” 

Like them, Nanaba was an omega. For the past several years she’d been teaching them to be proper Shiganshinan omegas. Grace, agility, poise, control. Defense and offense. To be liquid-limbed and cunning, charming but sweet as hemlock. While Eren wasn’t always happy with the training he was glad to have the opportunity — most omegas outside of Shiganshina went without. He’d heard horror stories of omegas so disconnected from their inner selves that they experienced sudden death. 

A frown appeared between Nanaba’s brows. She placed a hand over Armin’s forehead. 

“How long till your first heat?”

His blond friend blushed. “The doctor says b-before the week is over.” 

She dropped her hand. “Good. I’ll teach you heat control.” 

“I thought you took suppressants to control your heat?” Eren asked. 

Nanaba offered him a wry smile. “Remember what I said, little kitten? When you and your inner omega are in total harmony, remarkable things can happen. You both are already there. Now it’s time for you to explore the remarkable.” 

She sat in front of them with her legs crossed. “Armin, I want you to spend the next two hours meditating. Focus on exploring your pre-heat state — how is it different from how you normally feel? Pick apart the new elements. Eren…” She took a small purple pill from her pocket and popped it into her mouth. “Twenty seconds. Assault me. Make me sweat.” 

Eren clenched his fists. He pushed his scent out like a spear straight through Nanaba. 

Within dark eyes, pupils dilated. 

 

**xXx**

“They plan to attack the first of July,” the informant, Reiner, said. Mother gave no outward reaction to the news, continuing instead to run her fingers through Mikasa’s soft black locks. His twin sister laid in bed, sweat sheening her forehead. 

Eren found it quite disconcerting as Mikasa never perspired. As the doctor had confirmed only hours ago, the blade the kitchen boy had attacked his twin with had been dipped in Roderandium, a poison pulled from a rare flower in the northwestern district Orvud, Reiss’s homeland. Survival rate was low but their doctor was one of the best, second in Eldia only to Eren’s wayward father Grisha.

The news of the upcoming attack on Shiganshina seemed to not take hold in his brain. He felt an eerie sense of calm about it.

Their peace had been a ticking clock ever since Reiss began his steady campaign across the nation.

Thirteen days left.

“Reiss’s army isn’t brutal when it doesn’t need to be. They leave quickly when a district’s Imperator surrenders, like in Ehrmich. Reiss _does_ intend to rule these people one day — he doesn't want his own subjects to hate him,” the informant said in a confident voice, unaccompanied by a placating croon or misplaced superiority. Eren respected the man for it. Many alphas couldn’t resist the unwelcome add-ons when faced with omegas. 

Mother continued to stroke Mikasa’s hair. “I think I will be the judge of evaluating the whispers that come to me. Shiganshina is unlike the other eight districts. If Rod is the man I know him to be, he will take our omegas with him to distribute amongst the lacking districts, leaving the rest of the alphas and betas for dead. He will sacrifice us.” 

White-hot anger twisted in his gut. “Why?” Eren demanded. “We — We’re past the era of omega slavery. Our omegas would rebel — they’d come back — “ 

“Hush, Eren. Remember what I told you about being so open about your feelings.” 

Eren looked down and clenched his fists. 

“Fritz is more of a puppet-ruler than most understand. Many of the laws and legislations that are so disliked have been passed by the Senate. Rod wants to be a true king. A singular monarch. When that happens, he can do whatever he wishes.” 

“Still.” Eren said. 

“I know Rod better than perhaps anyone else,” Mother said. Eren glanced up to see fire in her dark eyes, a black, turbulent fire that promised something cold. Once, long ago, she’d been betrothed to that man. “If the populace believes the distribution of wealth and power to be dreadful now, they are wholly unprepared for what is to come.” 

“Why can’t we just tell them what’s going to happen? Make them understand!” 

“ _Eren,_ ” she reprimanded his tone before continuing in a softer voice. “It’s not possible. People believe what they want to believe, and they believe so strongly in Rod.” 

“Well, what do we do? We can’t do nothing.” 

“Do nothing? Do you think so little of me, love?” Mother said, lips parted and pristine white teeth bared in a predatory mock of a grin. Her scent, like sweet caramel apples, sharpened. 

For all people enjoyed taunting omegas for being useless, silly, air-headed love-chasers, Eren said look not at him as an example to the contrary, but to turn to Carla Jaeger. A titan in a sheep’s clothing.

And then, his stress vanished. Their mother would protect them. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Shiganshina. 

Rod Reiss should be pissing his trousers. Instead of all over the people of Eldia, that is. 

**xXx**

Anka Rheinberger longed for her mate. The comfort of the beta’s warm touches, the way his strong hands turned steel into sword. His hot open-mouthed kisses. She yearned to hear that she was the most beautiful creature to grace the earth — something she’d never heard before or since.

She turned fitfully in her bed, eyes closed, willing for sleep to take her. 

The campaign would be done soon. In the past two years, it had gained a lot of momentum. Nothing could stop it. Soon, as Reiss had promised her, she’d be given a ladyship. Somewhere warm. Ehrmich, was her first choice. She could give Garrick the life they deserved. Slaving away for years just to remain in the lower class was no way to live. It wasn’t fair. If someone worked really hard, they should be rewarded — like her. Climbing up from being a poor farmer’s daughter to one of Reiss’s advisers. If she could do it, anyone could. 

A smile graced her face as she imagined warm breezes and golden wheat fields. The shimmering of the Ehrmich Lake, green-blue fish leaping out of the water and right into their boat. 

Garrick’s scent enveloped her as he smiled, holding up a flopping trout by the thin skin of it’s tail. Honey; thick honey she wanted to get lost in. 

And then the fish leapt for her, its maw a red yawn, rows and rows and rows of sharp little teeth — 

Her eyes flew open. A large hand clamped down on her mouth, a golden hilt sticking out of her throat. Warmth wet her neck, pooled under her head. Garrick’s soothing honey smell remained, her urge to fight quelled. Her mate was saying it was okay — that nothing was wrong. Was this all in her head? A bad dream? Would she awaken, Garrick by her side, back in their cozy cottage?

Black spots invaded her vision, growing larger and larger until she couldn’t see anything at all. Couldn’t see the man, a man she didn’t recognize, with his hand over her mouth and his body emitting Garrick’s lovely… 

Lovely… 

Her head fell back, limp. 

Gone. 

**xXx**

Eren replaced the rag on Mikasa’s forehead with one freshly cooled. She sighed in contentment.

“Thank you, Eren.”

“The Doc says you’ll make a full recovery within two or three days. Said you’ve got a one-in-a-million immune system.” 

She spoke in a breathy voice. “The titan attack?”

“Only two casualties — green alpha boys that thought with their egos instead of their heads. It was a two-headed wolf. Even you would’ve been impressed, the pelt they dragged home was size of a carriage _including_ the horses.” His sister said nothing, she didn’t even look interested, but somehow Eren knew that not only did he have her full attention but she was relishing in hearing him speak. So he continued. “A girl named Annie killed it finally. I allowed her to take home the pelt as a reward. I was fairly surprised when she didn’t offer it to you when she heard of your condition — strange girl.” 

Mikasa adjusted the pillow beneath her back. “Tell me what came of Mama’s plot. I heard her speak of it. ” 

A faint frown graced Eren’s lips. “We managed to get all three ‘advisors’. Whatever that means. And a General. But one was unsuccessful — the one for Commander Ackerman.” Eren lowered his voice. “The assassin’s body was found in pieces, they say. Shredded.” 

“The Mad Dog,” Mikasa said almost in awe. “Shiganshinan assassins are perfect. How could he go against the scent of his mate during the peak of their cycle?”

Eren shrugged. “Rumor says his mate died. Maybe he knew.” 

“They say he doesn’t sleep either.” 

He narrowed his eyes at his twin. “You admire him?” 

Mikasa fiddled with the red scarf around her neck. The one Eren had placed around her when she’d gone into a shivering spell earlier. “Admiration implies something positive. I am… intrigued by him. He defies expectation.”

“Better start expecting him to live. Or you might die by his hand,” Eren said, lips pressing to a firm line. “He’s coming to our district. Mother sent her best assassin specifically to kill him — I don’t know if there’s anything more that she can do.” 

“How many days?” Mikasa asked, voice a bit croaky. Eren handed her a cup of fresh water, and she took it, sipping at the rim. 

“Ten.” 

She set the water aside and threw the blankets off of her. 

“Mikasa!” 

His twin pushed him away as she wobbled on her two feet. “I need to train. Mama’s tricks didn’t work on him; brute force is necessary. I’m strong enough to defeat him.” 

“Please lie back down,” Eren said, pushing her back onto the bed. He forcefully drew the sheets over her struggling form and tucked them under the featherbed. “The more you rest, the sooner you’ll get bett —” 

Mikasa’s lids had fallen, her chest rising and falling evenly, if a bit shallow. 

Simply attempting to stand must’ve tired her out. 

Eren resisted the urge to roll his eyes. With a deft hand, he collected the rag that’d fallen to the floor and placed it next to the abandoned teacup. Not a moment later, a new cooled rag was placed over her forehead.


	3. Jaunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit rushed. I'll go back and edit things later.

Eren drew the hood of his wool cloak further down his face. Rough brick pressed against his back in the shadowy alley, the odor of rotting fruit and despicable things assaulting his nose. Shiganshina was free of slums but some patches of the district were worse than others. This was the worst — it homed the slipperiest rapists and murderers, the ones that spent more effort covering their crimes than committing them. 

His mother rarely left her tower let alone the castle, and Mikasa was content to obey Carla’s wish that they stayed out the commoners’ sight for their own safety. However, with the news of the impeding attack, Eren found his rebellious spirit flaring. He needed to see his district. He needed to see what was happening with his own eyes — and he needed to _practice_. Ten days wasn’t much time, but Nanaba’s lessons would be even more ineffectual against the enemy army without some real-world application.

That was why tonight, dark hair, usually artfully slicked black to emphasize his high cheekbones and cutting facial angles, now boyishly waved around his face. Eyes, once poison-bright green, were now a murkier, ersatz version of the original by the grace of viper venom eye drops. A good enough disguise. 

“Good, you made it,” Eren said to the passing blond blur, who stumbled to a halt. He grinned darkly at his friend’s shocked face — they’d agreed to meet one alley over but Eren couldn’t help but cause a little mischief.

“You nearly scared the spirit out of me,” Armin said, hand over chest. He sniffed the air. “I didn’t smell you. Still can’t.” His eyes narrowed. “How’d you get so good so fast?” 

Eren shrugged before sticking his tongue out. “I took a suppressant pill.” 

“I thought you wanted to practice?”

“Yeah.” The blade at Eren’s hip glinted vicious moonlight. “I did.” 

The wind shifted and a new scent entered his sphere of awareness. An omega — pine-sweet, sickly. As an omega himself, Eren lacked the aggressive prey drive of alphas, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t feel a vestige of primal, back-brain bloodlust that told him to crush the weak thing under his heel. It couldn’t survive on its own. Destined to die. 

“You brought a friend?” he inquired. 

Armin brushed the backs of his hands on the scratchy fabric of his disguise. A nervous tick. He left the crevice between buildings Eren was hiding in and called out to someone a bit further back. 

The smell strengthened. Eren wondered if the newcomer was nearing his heat. 

A boy, shorter than even Armin, was suddenly before him. A ratty little thing with cropped hair and eyes that feverishly searched around. The blond loved to nurture peasants — be the ray of sunshine in their dark world, give them a small taste of the life they could never have. 

“A stray?” Eren purred. “I’ll play nice.” 

Armin shouldered the small boy. “M-my name’s Connie.” 

“Whisper. _Please_.” Eren said. “And call me… Ren.” 

Connie nodded sharply. “Ren.” 

Eren felt a pang of a chest-tightening emotion when Armin smiled encouragingly down at the boy. Armin was _his_ companion. Without sufficient motivation to snuff his urges, he pulled Armin tightly to him, hot breath washing over pale ear. “What’s wrong with him?”

Pink blotched Armin’s cheeks and he pushed Eren away. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing. In fact, I’m feeling rather good,” Eren said. It was like he was drifting on a cloud except nothing so extreme. In a subtle way he simply felt whole, felt like he’d had a few sips of an expensive fine wine. He focused on Connie. “So, you wanna carouse with us, huh? Let’s go.” 

Loose-limbed grace turned to a tight, nervous shuffle. He relinquished his aura of noble dignity for the perfume of desperation. It may not fool all commoners into thinking he was one of them, but when they were deep into their cups, Eren counted on them being not so astute.

They approached the bar. It didn’t look like a bar — in fact it was just someone’s home, but he’d been told there was a trapdoor in the living room which led to a secret underground room. 

Three omegas alone at night — either the stars were aligning, or it was a trap. Eren knew how it looked. As the only one completely scentless, Eren straightened his back and assumed an air of superiority — he’d be an alpha tonight. Wouldn’t look so suspicious that way. 

Eren had wanted to practice his omega wiles, but this would have to do. It was something he needed to train as well. The art of becoming anybody included the alpha dynamic. 

A small silver bell jingled above them when they entered. The bar was crowded, filled with sloshing barmaids and laughing stooges. For a moment, he doubted anyone noticed them — until he started catching flickering eyes. But they weren’t on him. Eren found himself not particularly pleased about that, but he supposed it was his own doing. 

They filed into a booth, Eren on one end and Armin and Connie on the other. A barmaid quickly came over to them. 

“What would you like, sirs?” 

Eren ordered whiskey; Armin and Connie a glass of watered down wine. 

He sighed and leaned his head against his propped up fist. “You guys look like picture-perfect omegas.” 

“And you look disconcerting,” Armin said, picking at the fake scar he had painted down his nose. “I can’t believe I let you drag us into this. This will never work.” 

“Boys.” Eren was suddenly pushed flush against the booth’s wall as a heavily muscled man made himself very comfortable right next to him. 

“Excuse me!” he growled. 

The man didn’t acknowledge him. He summoned the barmaid with a few fingers in the air and paid for their drinks. “Sorry, but I get a little chivalrous when see a couple of stunning omegas. Can’t help it.” Muscles winked. Connie blushed. Eren gaped — stunning? Since when was dirt-stained servant-wear the height of fashion? 

Eren drew into his body, found some leverage, and wielded a nasty kick to the other man’s side. That seemed to get his attention. 

“Get out of my seat. We’re having a private conversation.” Connie’s lips twitched oddly as he hid a laugh.

Muscles grinned, showing off a mouth of coffee-stained teeth. “Not a conversation worth having probably. Why’dya hide yourself, friend?” He turned to Armin and Connie. “It’s dangerous around these parts you know. A beta can’t protect you well enough. Why don’t we have some drinks and I’ll walk you home.” 

Eren puffed himself up. “I’m an alpha, you dim-wit.” 

The man rolled his eyes. “Right.” 

While Eren was slender, he was rather tall for an omega. Nothing about him screamed omega… he didn’t think.

“He is,” Connie said, speaking up for the first time. “Got a good knot too.” 

Eren’s prideful facade almost crumbled from sheer shock. The tips of his ears burned red, he was sure. But Armin? Armin could’ve been mistaken for a tomato.

The man winked at Armin. “Well if you all say he is, I’ll believe you. Might I get your names?”

“Connie,” the smaller boy supplied easily. 

“Min,” Armin mumbled. 

“Ralph.”

The barmaid returned with the drinks. As she left, Ralph smacked her arse — she yelped.

Eren’s finger drifted over the smooth, warm-metal face of his blade. He hadn’t expected — nor wanted, his first victim to be such a physical challenge, but it didn’t seem like they had a choice now. 

“Have some respect for the employees,” Eren said. “They have enough trouble to deal with without adding you to the mix.” 

“They’ll just have to fit me into their schedule.” His eyes didn’t leave the barmaid’s backside. Then, suddenly, he seemed to snap to attention. “You know what? You’re right, let’s leave her alone. Why don’t we all to the bar across the street. They’ve got bets going around this time. Could win a coin or two.” 

“Why not.” Eren got up, the other two following. This was their chance. As they left, the back of his head prickled — a lot of people were staring. But no one got up, no one trailed behind them suspiciously. 

Cool night air caressed over his skin. They walked, as Ralph had said, to the house across the street. It was nearly identical, and Eren could hear the faint sounds of excited hollering. 

They crossed the threshold and the door closed behind him. Similar to the other bar, the sound was coming from underground. The top was bare of people, just a few old furnishings. Perfect. Eren kept his gaze on the nape of Ralph’s neck and drew his blade. 

Ralph turned, and to his surprise, there was a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He brandished his chin — Eren stole a flicker-quick look back. Connie’s body coiled around Armin like a snake, leg through a leg, arm through an arm, and a hand smacked over Armin’s mouth. “One wrong move, and Con’ll snap his delicate little neck.” 

Fury washed through him. The blade’s hilt dug into his palm. 

Armin wasn’t as good a fighter as he was. That was the one area where he struggled. His strength was in books and his genius intellect. Connie was smaller, but it was clear he’d had training of some sort. 

“What do you want?”

Another plot from Reiss? First assassination attempt didn’t pan out, so try something new? 

“I want you to bend over that table.” Ralph pointed to an ash desk, a few books bound in leather splayed across them. 

Eren hissed. His gut curled. “You’re insane.” 

“Do it.” 

He had a few throwing knives. It would be easy to throw one at Connie and then try to slice up Ralph. But Connie and Armin were so entwined, the slightest mistake could leave Armin dead.

_Why?_

The words never left his throat.

“And drop the weapon.” 

It clattered to the floor.

He complied, almost as if in a trance. Eren could scarcely believe it when he was bent over the table, rough hands _ripping_ at his pants. Burning hot fear seared his veins, pooled in his stomach. No, it was some kind of mistake… misunderstanding. Alphas didn’t do this to other alphas. He’d found out somehow. 

“You won’t tell will you?” the man grunted into his ear. “What will everyone say if they realize you can’t even protect your own dignity, huh? Some alpha. They’d never let you have your pretty one.”

His eyes widened. Connie didn’t tell him — unless he did know he was an omega. He assumed Armin had told him — but if he didn’t…? Eren had been acting rather aggressively, it might have fooled Connie. 

A gasp left him when his pants were finally yanked down and air hit his bare skin. 

_Armin do something!_

He realized the blond was in the same predicament he was. If he tried to take Ralph down with his scent, Connie would kill him. 

Then, he felt sticky, greasy fingers on his back, lifting his shirt further up. 

Clenched eyes blew open when he felt a dribble of wetness slide down his upper thigh. There was no scent — but he knew it was him. His body was betraying him, he thought, as his insides pulsed with a warm, clenching tingle. 

He couldn’t do this. 

In one swift movement, Eren flung his wrist in an arc behind him — a hidden knife sank into flesh; a body fell heavily. When Ralph’s face reddened in anger, Eren realized he’d struck his target. A fist collided with his face — he stumbled over the clothing tangled around his ankles. 

Ralph roared.

The merriment from downstairs abruptly stopped.

His hulking form reaching down for him — and then froze mid-way.

Pupils doubled in size. 

“Eren, let’s go!” Footsteps from the basement grew louder and louder as steps were climbed. 

He quickly grabbed the fallen blade and pulled up his pants up. With dark, vicious, _righteous_ wrath, Eren swung the blade and it bit deeply across the man’s jugular; blood poured, spilled like a gruesome river. 

With a nasty smile, Eren swung again for good measure. 

The trapdoor unlatched. Armin grabbed him and they ran. And as they ran, a stark truth sank into him: he’d always believed omegas to be a step above the rest — oppressed, because their kind nature made it easy; loyal; so beautiful it hurt because perhaps their souls were simply purer, more human. But no. Alphas, omegas… it didn’t matter. Anyone could be shit. 

He’d never pictured his first kill so violent, so desperately necessary. No… his first kill had been Connie, not Ralph — an omega. 

_“They were mates,” Armin said, panting. “He had a mate bite scar — I was close enough to Connie — I smelt Ralph inside his neck.”_

_Had Connie once been good? Could he have been corrupted, lured down a dark path by the one destined to him by the universe? How does one resist… their soulmate, their eternal partner?_

Tonight, the sky was black as oil. A blessing, for Eren stumbled home soaked in blood.

**xXx**

That night, Eren had a strange dream. A dream that felt more real than life did at times; so vivid, so consuming, he woke up in a cold sweat wondering if one of Mother’s assassins had decided to turn on him. But it hadn’t been a good dream. No, he’d never been more terrified. 

An after-image of his father, crazy-eyed behind his spectacles, brandishing a syringe full of pale liquid lingered even as Eren blinked his eyes. They’d been in a forest. His arm had stung hot-cold as the needle shoved deep into his flesh. 

The stress was affecting him. Must be it. 

But Eren couldn’t fall back to sleep. Instead, he found his gaze drawn to the forests that laid beyond his window. Dark, deadly forests. He wondered where his father was, if he was even alive. If one day he came back to Shiganshina only to see it empty and ravaged. 

He had killed tonight. For some reason, he thought he’d feel… different. 

There was a soft knocking at his door. 

“Come in.” His voice was raspy from sleep -- or rather, the lack of it. 

“My love,” Mother said, the bed dipping where she sat. Her knuckles brushed across his cheek. “I have something to tell you.” She sniffed at him and narrowed her eyes, but didn’t comment. The scent repressing pill must still be in effect. Nor did she say anything about the fist-size bruise purpling his cheekbone.

Eren made an inquiring noise from the back of his throat. 

“King Fritz’s army isn’t coming,” she said. “He says it would be a waste — leading the soldiers to slaughter. He wants to concentrate his forces in Mitras, where he is.”

Eren let his silence speak for himself. Somehow — somehow, he just knew that this would happen. Gods, he felt so helpless. He couldn’t do anything. Only watch as his district was torn apart. Eren wished someone would simply tell him what to do — what he could do to save his people. 

“I’m re-marrying.” 

He turned to face her gently smiling face. 

“What about father?” 

Although Grisha had left them, he was still their father. His mark was on her neck, her mark on his. Even in this modern age, not many suitors considered that acceptable. Especially with the chance that Grisha yet walked the earth. 

Mother stroked his hair, just as she’d done to Mikasa only days ago. “You remember our ways, Eren, don’t you? This lifetime simply wasn’t the right one for your father and I. In our next incarnation, it will be better. I know it.” 

Of course Eren remembered. Being dragged to the temple as a child, eating their strange ‘open-your-third-eye’ temple food, memorizing all the prayers. Shiganshinans believed the soul was eternal, doomed to reincarnate after death time and time again. And stuck to the same stupid soul-mate. 

It was a common saying in Shiganshina: ‘This life wasn’t the right one’. 

Servant-boys happily did their duty, knowing there was a chance that in their next incarnation they’d be the one to wear a king’s crown. And when they were kings, they wouldn’t want their servant-boys running off, would they? Arranged marriages were common. Unlike the other eight districts, finding one’s soulmate didn’t mean an automatic dissolution of their mate’s current marriage; it didn’t give either of the pair a claim over their match in any way. Citizens were expected to put duty over their own happiness, as there was only one world, one timeline, but they had infinite tries to be with their mate. 

Putting your mate over your duty was considered selfish. 

Eren remained skeptical. The idea of reincarnation had always sounded like propaganda to him — a way to soothe the masses, to placate broken pairs. If Eren found his soulmate one day, he’d be sorely tempted to run away with them and leave the trappings of duty behind. But he’d always been the selfish one of the family.

“I apologize,” Eren said, though he knew he hadn’t offended his mother. 

“Accepted.” The stoking of his hair slowed to a stop. “His name is Kenny Ackerman.” 

Eren dry-swallowed. He thought of the terrifying monster of a man that held that same surname. “Family of Commander Ackerman?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” she said, resuming her petting. But Eren’s stomach was bundled into a knot. The hand in his hair no longer felt comforting — it was invasive. 

He sat up against the headboard, leaving the hand behind. 

“What can he do? He’s with Reiss, isn’t he?”

“Kenny is an outlaw,” his mother said in a conspiratorial tone. “He has quite the little army of his own. Bandits, pirates, assassins. He’s an intelligent man, but not when it comes to omegas.”

“So he’s going to fight them,” Eren said brightly.

She lightly flicked his nose. “You bet. He’s planning on intercepting them just before they enter the forest. Then, he’ll come here, we’ll marry — “ 

Eren stilled. 

Mother kissed his forehead. “I won’t give him the children he wants. Shiganshina rightfully belongs to you and Mikasa.” 

“You’ve convinced him that Mikasa will relinquish her claim? That I would?”

Since Mother was only a regent, a temporary ruler until her first-born came of age, she didn’t have the right to cast her children with Grisha from the line of succession. Law followed Jaeger blood. Kenny, if he married Mother, would have an even more tenuous claim to the seat of Imperator. In the eyes of society, Mikasa’s claim was the strongest. 

However, when _war_ entered the equation, when the district was faced with imminent peril, a lot of the old traditions and ‘stone-hard rules’ started feeling as pliant as rubber. 

“I have,” she said. 

“And if father returns?”

She smiled sadly. “I don’t think he’s coming back.”


End file.
